


as reliable as truth

by midnightluck



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, Truth Spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightluck/pseuds/midnightluck
Summary: Ace grips the old lady's arm, holding it steady. She wraps her free hand around his wrist and looks up at him with eyes that burn like the house behind them. “You're a liar and you gave me an empty promise,” she says, “so I give you this curse in return:to thine self be true.”





	as reliable as truth

**Author's Note:**

> Nonnie asked for Ace getting hit with a truth spell and I got...carried away. Also yes, that's a star wars crossover, I just--
> 
> Title from this quote from Norman Mailer: “Prevarication, like honesty, is reflexive, and soon becomes a sturdy habit, as reliable as truth.”

"I'm serious," Izo says, letting the fabric spill through his fingers. "You've got warm undertones, you know? The new red lipstick I just got would suit you perfectly. Won’t you try it on?"

"Sure," Ace says, sticking both hands in his pockets and turning away.

Izo promptly abandons the fabric in favor of his brother because, "Is that a yes? Will you let me give you a makeover?"

"Sure," Ace repeats agreeably, and Izo pounces, grabbing his chin and tilting his face around.

"I'm going to hold you to that," he says, and stares at Ace's face. He hasn't got a foundation in quite that shade, but that would cover the freckles anyway, so maybe--

There's a _fwoomp_ and a scream, and it's only because Izo knows Ace that he knows that sound. That's the sound of something catching fire, and Ace jerks out of his grip to turn towards it.

"Is that--" he murmurs, and then takes off. Izo dashes after him, but Ace is weaving through the market like he knows it, even though he couldn't possibly--

Izo comes to a stop on the edge of the fire, in just enough time to hear the old woman yell, "My granddaughter--!"

Ace turns to her, spinning on a heel, and says, "I'll get her; don't worry!" and then he's dashing to the flames.

Izo sucks in a breath and holds it. Fire can't hurt Ace, he knows, but it's still hard to watch heat lick at the building and know one of his brothers is inside.

Thankfully, it's not long before Ace comes crashing back out, a whole load of children under his arms and across his shoulders. "Last stop," he says, grinning, and kneels down to let the last little girl slide to the ground. "Everybody off!"

Izo wraps one hand in his collar to prevent himself from reaching for Ace as he heads back in. He's two steps from the door, though, when the roof falls. They all flinch back.

"No," Ace says, reaching a hand out, fire along his shoulders. "No--"

Izo catches his forearm, still flesh, as he tries to go back in, and shakes his head. "It's too late," he says.

" _No_ ," Ace says, and he turns to the old woman. "She was--" he says, and swallows. "She kept them calm," he offers, and even he winces at how little it is. "She made me take the youngest first."

The old woman sinks down, gentle and slow, and her eyes are dry as they stare towards the fire.

"I'm sorry," Ace says. "There wasn't enough time--"

And she makes a sharp gesture and looks up at him. "You said it would be fine," she says. "You lied. You're a liar, child, and an oathbreaker besides."

"I never wanted to--" Ace says, and she actually honestly hisses at him.

"You said you would save her," the woman says, shaking wildly. "You promised and you _lied_."

Izo steps forward but Ace is right there between them, and he puts a hand on Izo's shoulder. "Better go," he says. "Nothing more we can do here."

The woman lunges for Ace and he immediately goes all flesh again. Her thin hand reaches out to slap his cheek and he stands there and lets her, even when her nails dig bloody marks into his skin.

Izo lunges forward, but Ace grips her arm, holding it steady. She wraps her free hand around his wrist and looks up at him with eyes that burn like the house behind them. “You gave me an empty promise,” she says, “So I give you this in return: _to thine self be true_.”

Ace stares back at her, all hard jaw and hurt eyes. “I tried,” he says. “She was so brave.”

“She’s _gone_ ,” the woman says, and rips out of Ace’s hands. She spits at his feet and then starts to shuffle away.

Ace lets her go and Izo steps up beside him. Ace wraps his hand over his wrist where the woman had grabbed him and Izo lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Ace opens his mouth, pauses a second, and then he says, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He stays pretty quiet on the way back to the ship, and Izo lets him, right up until they reach the town again. Passing through the market, Izo nudges him lightly and says, “Don’t forget, you said I could do your makeup some time.”

“Oh, right,” Ace says. “Yeah, I’d forgotten; sorry.”

Izo turns to pout at him properly. “Ace!” he whines. “You just promised, not even an hour ago!”

Ace grimaces a bit and tugs the wrist he’s holding up higher. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with it,” he says, and blinks. “I’ve never worn makeup.”

Izo flips back around to walk beside him again. “It’s fine if you don’t want to,” he says, trying to sound gentle. “You know I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to.”

“I know,” Ace says, and then he stops, right before they hit the market. He turns to Izo and takes a deep breath. “I think--” he says, and then cuts off.

“Ace?”

Ace makes a face and then opens his hand, showing black smudges on his skin. “I think she put me under a truth spell,” he says, holding his arm out.

Izo takes his hand and lightly turns it over. There’s a mark there, messy and vague but still clearly a handprint. “She did this?”

Ace makes a face and says, slow and careful, “I’m having a hard time talking. Everything I say is true, whether I mean for it to be or not.”

Izo catches his breath. That’s--it’s unfair, and more than that, it’s _dangerous._ “Can you choose not to say anything?” Izo asks, because as long as it’s not a compulsion, they can probably get back to the ship. There’s a chance someone on the crew will know more about curses or whatever this is.

Ace hasn’t answered, and Izo drops his hand and looks up at his face. He’s frowning but hasn’t spoken yet, so that’s a yes. “Good,” Izo says. “Come on, then; let’s go ask Pops if he’s heard of anything like this.”

Ace nods and trails behind him through the market, eyes down and mouth shut. Izo keeps glancing back to make sure he’s still there, and they make it through the market and back out of town.

“You okay?” Izo asks one more time as they leave town.

Ace looks down at his wrist and then he surprises Izo. “I’ll be fine,” he says, and suddenly grins. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll manage just fine.”

Izo raises a perfect eyebrow, but he doesn’t like to pry. “If you say so,” he says, shrugging. “I’m gonna go straight to Pops. You should swing by the infirmary; maybe they’ll know something about it.”

“Okay,” Ace says agreeably. “I’m sure they’ll be able to help.”

Izo smiles and waves him off to go find Pops. It’s so nice to know that Ace has so much faith in them, really.

He runs into Marco outside Pop’s office. “Hey,” he says, raising one hand in both a greeting and a bid for Marco’s attention.

“Izo,” Marco says. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah,” Izo says. “Something happened. I need to talk to Pops, and you should probably be there.”

Marco’s eyes narrow, and he knocks on Pop’s study door. They both wait, and then Pops’ deep voice bids them enter. Marco opens the door and steps back to let Izo sweep in first, and Izo gives him a small nod. Marco’s always been thoughtful like that.

Pops is sitting at his desk, and he puts down a handful of papers as they enter. He sits up and regards them. “Is there something the matter?”

And Izo falls into an easy parade rest and tells them what happened, as best he can recall. He’s careful with the words she said, and makes sure they know it’s not compelling Ace to speak, just affecting what he does say, and when he runs out of words, he shuts up and waits.

Whitebeard sits back in his chair. “I am afraid he won’t take this well,” he says.

Izo doesn’t bite his lip because it would mess up his lipstick and he doesn’t fidget because he learned not to long ago, but he does draw in a breath before remembering that he’s allowed to speak. “He seemed okay, on the way back,” he says, and he frowns. “Said he had it under control, and he was smiling.”

“I don’t like it, yoi,” Marco says, lurking around the edges of the room. “Do we have anyone who knows about this kind of thing on board?”

Pops’ eyes unfocus and he stares off a bit, and then he finally says, “Jimnes, in the Fifth Division, is from Dathomir.”

“The Nightsisters, yoi. Right. I’ll go speak to Jimnes. Where’s Ace now?”

“I sent him to the infirmary,” Izo says. “Maybe it’s physical.”

There’s a moment as they all separately think about how likely that is, and then Pops nods. “I will look through some of these old books,” he says, and then pauses, looking thoughtful. “Ask Nemja to come help, won’t you?”

Marco nods. “I’ll do that; Izo, you get back to Ace.”

Izo nods and snaps back to attention before turning on a heel and heading out. It’s all old habits he really should break, but it also makes his kimono swirl really nicely, so he never quite bothered to.

The infirmary isn’t all that far, really, though that’s more for Pops’ sake than anyone else’s, and he doesn’t pass anyone in the halls. The door’s propped open when he approaches, and he slows down to listen.

“Truth spell, is it?” Flency is asking, and Izo leans artfully against the doorway just in time to see the penlight being flashed into Ace’s eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Portgas D. Ace,” Ace says, leaning away and blinking. “Do you have to?”

Flency makes a distracted humming sound and shines the light in each eye one more time, “Are you otherwise physically okay?”

“Of course,” Ace says, batting the light away. “I’m just fine.”

“Right,” Flency says, dropping the light and resting careful fingers on the curse mark. “And where’s home?”

“Here,” Ace says and then promptly flushes. “That’s--” his mouth works, but no voice comes out, and Izo just wants to coo at him. Ace thinks of the _Moby Dick_ as his home already!

“Come a long way from the murder phase,” he says instead.

Ace ducks his head and kicks his feet a bit. “I wasn’t _really_ trying to kill Pops,” he says, and Izo doubletakes. He hadn’t been?

“If that’s your idea of _not really trying_ , please don’t ever really try,” Flency says, stepping back. “You seem fine to me, Ace. Besides the whole truth thing. Whatever this is, it’s not medical.”

“We have some ideas,” Izo says. “Marco’s chasing down a lead right now.”

Ace looks up and nods at him in thanks, and he nods back. “In the meantime,” Izo says, “why don’t we go the galley?”

Ace lights up like Izo knew he would; they’d intended to have lunch on the island, after their shopping, so Ace is probably hungry. He nods and slides right off the examination counter. “I could eat a whole alligator right now,” he says, brushing past Izo and out into the hall.

Izo laughs at him and follows, waving to Flency. “I don’t think we have any alligator,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve ever even tried it. Is it good?”

Ace shrugs but keeps moving. “It’s got a really strong flavor,” he says. “Not my favorite, but when it’s made into soup…” he trails off, sniffing the air. “Come on!”

Izo just shakes his head as Ace hurries, but he steps quick enough to catch up and enters the galley on Ace’s heels.

Marco’s already at the Commander’s table when they walk in, and given the way they all turn to immediately stare at Ace, he’s told them what’s going on.

Izo ushers Ace through the food line, and he catches Thatch’s eye and jerks his head towards the table. Thatch nods, shucking his apron and piling a tray high with more food. He follows them over to the table, ignoring Ace’s frown.

“Hey,” he says, deftly balancing the tray on one hand and pulling out a chair. “I need to eat too, you know. Besides, you need more hands to carry all your food anyways!”

Ace flushes and mumbles something, but then he looks up and says, “Thank you, Thatch. I never go hungry here, and it’s great.”

Thatch blinks, leaning back. “You’re...welcome?” he says, and Izo huffs.

“Ace here,” he announces, “is an unfairly persecuted hero.” Everyone looks around, and Haruta leans forward on the table, chin in hand. “Ace, do you want to tell the story?”

Ace shakes head, then swallows. “I don’t mind if you tell it,” he says, and goes back to doing his black hole impression.

So Izo does, with sweeping gestures and elegant turns of phrase, describing how Ace hadn’t hesitated to dive into a burning building. “He brought out the kids,” he says, and there’s appreciative _oohing_ all around them. “As many as he could carry.”

He skims over the rest, partially because he still doesn’t know what really happened inside and partially because Ace doesn’t need the reminder, and gets to the point where the woman spat at him and laid her spell upon him. “And she said, oh, what were the words?”

Ace pauses, then swallows his mouthful. “I don’t remember,” he says, and chugs his drink.

Izo blinks. “Okay. I think it was ‘to yourself be true,’ or something similar,” he says.

Ace makes a hmm kind of noise and then steals Thatch’s drink as well. “Hey!” Thatch says. “That’s rude!”

Ace finishes it off, slamming it back on the table. “I’m rude,” he says, grinning.

Thatch narrows his eyes and points at him. “Don’t think being under some kind of spell means you can get away with things,” he says, all good natured teasing.

“I thought it would,” Ace says, on the edge of a pout. It’s adorable, and also it reminds Izo of something.

He leans forward to get everyone’s attention, and then announces, “Ace thinks of the _Moby Dick_ as home. He said so in the infirmary. Isn’t that precious?”

“Aw,” Thatch coos at him, just like Izo’d wanted to. “Ace! You really do love us!”

Ace keeps his mouth shut but his jaw twitches, and they all laugh. “It’s okay,” Fossa says, leaning in. “We already know anyway.”

“We love you too,” Haruta says, leaning in against his shoulder. “Hey, hey! Since you’re not compelled, can we ask you questions?”

Ace stops, then carefully puts down his spoon. “I don’t mind,” he says, but his hands are fists. “I don’t have any secrets I wouldn’t tell you anyway.”

Haruta beams at him. “Then first question! Most important question, Ace, and I can’t believe I have to take advantage of a truth spell to get this out of you, but--” Haruta points at him and he stiffens. “What the actual hell is your favorite color?”

There’s a beat before Ace laughs, his shoulders relaxing, and he grins at Haruta. “Blue,” he says. “I didn’t used to like it, but now it’s blue.”

Izo picks up the thread and keeps it going. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Nineteen,” Ace says, and he’s calmed back down. Good, Izo thinks, smiling. If they just keep it light, maybe they can make this less of a trial for him and learn something besides.

“Do you have any family back home?” Fossa asks, and Ace makes a face but nods.

“Two brothers,” he says, “and a grandfather.”

Fossa, who has a handful of siblings himself, chuckles. “You must miss them,” he says.

“Don’t really miss them much at all,” Ace says, shrugging. “We’ll all meet again some day on the sea.”

Haruta giggles at him. “Sounds like you love them very much!”

“They love me more than I love them,” Ace says, eyes down, and then wakes the swirly gesture that is international charades for _next topic_.

Thatch leans in to oblige. “What’s your favorite food?” he asks, because of course he does.

“Chocolate,” Ace says, grinning big, and everyone laughs at him. “I really love sweets!”

That’s almost cute, Izo thinks, and has a question about swimming on the tip of his tongue when he catches Thatch’s expression from the corner of his eye. Thatch is frowning lightly, looking at Ace, and Izo pokes him and raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the coolest island you’ve ever been to?” Fossa asks, and Ace goes off about Sabaody for a while, and all the colors and the rides and the food.

“Ace,” Thatch says, and Izo’s been watching so he knows it’s not as light as he’s making it sound. “Ace, are you happy?”

Ace turns to meet his gaze full on and smiles, crinkling up his eyes and everything. “I love my life,” he says, and Thatch blinks.

“Yes, but are you happy here, on the _Moby Dick_?”

“I--” Ace says, then bites his lip and looks around.

"Ace," Izo says, leaning in. "You don't owe us anything. As long as you're happy here, that's enough for us, you know?"

"Of course I know," Ace says, nodding. "There's never been a ship I've loved more. I'm very lucky."

“That’s not an answer,” Thatch says, eyes narrowing.

There’s something wrong here, Izo thinks, and normally he’d side with Thatch, but with Ace under the spell… “Thatch, he already said--”

Thatch makes a sharp gesture at him. “Yes or no; are you happy here with us?” he asks, and every eye goes to Ace.

It’s probably not a fair question to ask, but now they all want to know. Especially since Ace is biting his lip, eyes darting around, refusing to answer.

“I want to tell you,” Ace says, “But--” and makes a helpless gesture.

And Marco, who’s been watching instead of participating, finally steps forward and puts a hand on Ace’s shoulder. “Ace,” he says, “if there’s something we can do to help, just tell us, yoi. Aren’t you happy?”

Ace looks up at Marco for a second, over to Thatch, back down, and then his whole body slumps into itself. “No,” he says. “I’ve never been more miserable in my life.”

Izo gasps, and he’s not the only one. What? But if he’s saying it, it has to be true, but if it’s true, how did they miss this? How did it possibly…?

“Ace,” Thatch says, voice steady but flat. “What color is the sea?”

Ace flinches but doesn’t look up. His hands are fisted in his lap. “Red,” he says.

“What’s my name?” Thatch asks.

“Marco,” Ace answers, and his shoulders raise just a bit more.

Thatch leans in. “It was never a truth spell at all, was it?” he asks.

Ace finally looks up. “It was a truth spell,” he says, spreading his hands helplessly. “It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t deserve it.”

“It wasn’t--” Haruta says, and then cuts off, and Izo looks around to see everyone thinking more or less the same thing.

He thinks back to that afternoon. “She called you a liar,” he remembers. “She said you were a liar and then she said to be true to yourself.”

“I’m not a liar,” Ace murmurs.

“You said it was a truth spell,” Izo continues, and horror tastes bitter on his tongue. “You said you were okay and that you weren’t worried and that you knew we’d be able to help.”

Into the silence that follows, Thatch says, “I’ve never seen you eat sweets.”

Ace flinches and mutters something, and Izo is close enough to hear, “I thought you’d notice something that small.”

“Ace,” Izo says, and then chokes on helpless fury. “It can’t be--but you said your name and your home and…”

“I like lying,” Ace says, and he grimaces. “It’s not necessary. I only do it for fun.”

Marco says something nasty very quietly, and Fossa nods and repeats it. Ace looks around, then makes a face. “Why is this such a big deal?” he asks. “It doesn’t bother me at all.”

“Yes but--” Izo starts, and then stops. “No, because it does. Because you’re lying, and we keep buying it.”

Ace makes a frustrated sound. Haruta gasps and says, “You said you didn’t mind if we asked you questions.”

“I didn’t mind,” Ace repeats, and Haruta pulls away from the table.

“You shouldn’t just--” Haruta says, then blows out an exasperated breath. “I wouldn’t’ve asked if I thought it would make you uncomfortable.”

Ace blinks, then tilts his head. “Why?”

"Because," Haruta says, then growls. "No, I'm out. Someone else explain."

"Because," Izo says, reaching out to rest a few fingers on Ace's arm. "We care about you and don't want to make you uncomfortable or intrude on your boundaries. We have no right to demand anything you're not comfortable sharing, and you have no obligation to share it."

Ace's eyebrows draw in, and he looks like he's going to say more, but there's a scuff and a throat clearing. “Uh, sirs?”

Everyone turns to look at the young man who’s standing just at the edge of their group, and he flushes, making the tattoos stand out on his paper pale skin. “You asked for me?”

Marco steps forward and says, “Yes, Jimnes, we had a question. You’re from the island of Dathomir, yoi?”

“Ye--yes sir,” he gets out, and then snaps off a belated salute.

Marco blinks at him and he goes even redder, dropping his hand. It’s cute, in an eager kind of way, and Marco just shakes his head and keeps talking. “Seems Ace here ran afoul of some kind of magic user, yoi. We were hoping you might know something about it?”

Jimnes sidesteps enough to look at Ace, and Ace raises his hand to show off the print. Jimnes drags in breath through his teeth and leans forward. “Ouch, that’s nasty,” he says, reaching out to hover his fingers over it. “Someone really wanted you bound, sir.”

“It was an accident,” Ace says, and Izo’s not the only one to give him a sharp look for that.

“A mother’s curse is a powerful thing,” Jimnes says. “Was this cast on the spot?”

Izo jumps in before Ace can reply. “Yes,” he says. “She grabbed his hand and told him to be true to himself, and then she left.”

“Can’t’ve,” Jimnes says absently, then immediately stands up straight and salutes so hard he nearly brains himself. “Sir! I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t mean--!”

“At ease,” Izo says. “Permission to speak freely; just tell us what you mean.”

He blinks at them. “Uh, right. It’s just, a curse like this, it couldn’t work on just physical contact. It would need some kind of sealing.”

“Like what?” Marco asks, and Jimnes sucks on his teeth and lets his eyes roam over Ace.

“There,” he says, gesturing at his left cheek, “and there,” he adds, pointing to his boots. “Something was taken and something was given. An exchange.”

“Nothing was…” Izo says, but he remembers, then, the way Ace stood still and turned his head with the slap. “She drew blood,” he says, running a finger along his own face. “Then she spat at your feet.”

Jimnes nods. “If she bit her tongue or the inside of her lip--an exchange of blood would seal a curse like this really well,” he says, then hesitates. “If it’s a blood-sealed curse, there’s...it can’t be broken.”

“It’s okay,” Ace says, waving a hand, but his eyes are hollow and they all know he’s lying.

“There’s no way to break it?” Marco asks.

“Oh, no, there is,” Jimnes says, startled. “It’s--of course there’s a way. There’s always a way, because there’s a cost, and you can only--right. Yes. There’s always an escape condition sealed into the spell, and if the Commander can fulfill it, the curse will lift. We just can’t break it through brute force or any other way.”

He’s got everyone’s attention now. “You know a lot about this,” Haruta says, eyes glinting, and he visibly swallows.

“I’m...from the village of the Nightbrothers?” he says, wilting a bit in place. “I never had any skill myself, but I have three sisters and they all…”

Haruta nods. “I’m stealing you.”

“You...what?”

“What division are you in? Trick question; you’re mine now.”

“Sir?”

“Shhh,” Haruta says, getting up. “Come on, come along. Tell me everything you know.”

Haruta wraps one hand around Jimnes’ arm and starts dragging him off, and the Commanders watch him go with sympathy and absolutely no intention of helping. “Thank you!” Thatch calls after him, right before he disappears.

“So there we go,” Marco says. “Very helpful, Jimnes, yoi. Think he deserves a bonus.”

“I think he deserves being kept an eye on,” Izo says, frowning. “He knows a lot about curses.”

Thatch snorts. “ _Haruta_ just dragged him off,” he reminds them. “No one keeps an eye on people like Haruta.”

Well, true enough. Izo huffs and turns back to Ace, who’s sitting stiff and still.

“So it can be broken,” he says, and Ace nods. “We just have to figure it out.”

“I vote true love’s kiss,” Fossa says, leaning in. “That always works in the stories.”

“I have a true love,” Ace says, and everyone’s eyes snap to him.

“Do you really?” Izo asks, starting to smile. “Oh, that’s so romantic!” Then reality crashes back in and he frowns. “No, wait.” He huffs. “This lying is very confusing.”

“Yes, it is,” Ace says, and Izo frowns at him some more.

“What I don’t get,” Thatch says, leaning on the table, “is that you always seem pretty happy.”

“I’m not,” Ace says, but he nods and Thatch nods back.

“Yeah, so you are,” he says. “So why do you hate your life?”

“I don’t,” Ace says. "My life is great; nothing really bad's ever happened to me."

Thatch nods. "Yeah. You say that and it sounds good, but also you're lying."

"I'm not," Ace refutes, but it's weak at best.

Marco sighs. "Don't make him answer things he doesn't want to talk about," he says. "If he doesn't trust us, pushing is not gonna help, yoi."

"I'm not at all afraid of telling you all the truth," Ace protests. "No one who's learned it has ever tried to kill me for it."

"I--" Marco starts, then stops suddenly. " _Kill you_?"

"Never ever," Ace promises, and Marco lets his head fall onto the table.

"I hate this curse, yoi," he moans.

"I love it," Ace says, making it biting and sarcastic. "I'd be happy to keep it forever."

"Then let's figure out how to break it," Thatch says. "Jimnes said something about escape clauses and stuff, right? So there has to be a clue of some kind?"

"I wish we remembered what she said," Izo sighs. "I know I'm missing something."

"I don't remember either," Ace says, and Izo nods.

"You said--"

Ace cuts him off and says again, " _I don't remember_."

"You don't--oh." Izo sighs and puts one hand to his forehead. "This opposite business is a mess."

Marco sits down, finally, in Haruta's old seat. "Can you tell us, yoi?"

Ace waves a hand around and rolls his eyes. "Of course I can tell you. She said I was honest."

Marco nods. "She called you a liar."

Ace pauses and looks at him, taking this seriously, and his spine straightens just a bit. "She..also said that I kept my promises."

"Oathbreaker!" Izo says, snapping his fingers. "That's what she said!"

"That's wrong," Ace breathes, eyes wide. "I can tell the truth, so maybe I can't keep a promise."

It takes Izo a moment to parse that, but it does make sense. "If she called you both of those and you can't tell the truth, maybe if you keep a promise, it'll prove the curse was unfounded," he hazards.

Ace flashes them all a grin. "It's definitely worse than trying true love's kiss."

"I'll kiss you," Thatch offers, just to see the face Ace makes. He leans in across the table, making kissy faces and loud smacking noises, and Ace puts a hand over his face and pushes him back.

"You can't make a promise right now because it would be a lie, yoi," Marco points out. "Do you have any handy promises you made recently?"

"No!" Ace says, shoving Thatch back.

"Of course, that would be easy, yoi. Oh, wait, that means--"

Wait, yes, because--oh, surely it couldn't be that easy. "You made me one this morning," Izo says. "You promised to let me do your makeup. You changed your mind later, but--"

"I changed my mind," Ace repeats, and he nods. "Izo, please don't do my makeup."

"I--" no, wait, _don't_ meant _do._ "Yes, I'd be glad to," he says, standing up. "Do you want me to bring my kit here, or go to my quarters?"

"Here is fine," Ace says, standing up. "I never mind an audience."

He steps out from around the table, and Izo sighs. "And that's why we didn't notice, isn't it?" he asks. Marco and Thatch stand, too, and Fossa starts gathering plates.

"I like lying but I'm not very good at it," Ace says mildly. "I had a bad teacher."

Izo runs that through a negation filter and comes up with a picture he doesn't really care for. "You must have had a very odd childhood," he says.

"I loved my childhood," Ace says, flashing them all a smile that Izo now knows is a blatant tell. "It was normal and easy and safe."

That's _exactly_ why they didn't notice, Izo thinks, leading Ace and his hangers-on out of the galley. He said what they expected to hear, and they never thought to question it.

“When this is over, we’re gonna hafta sit down for storytime,” Thatch says. “Seriously, if we’d known more about you, we would’ve caught this a lot earlier.”

“Yes, you would’ve,” Ace agrees.

Thatch taps the back of his head. “None of your lip,” he says, but he’s smiling.

They hit the door of Izo’s room and he opens it and lets Ace go first. He blocks the other two until Ace rolls his eyes and waves them in.

He point Ace to the stool at his vanity and then pulls out his heavy-duty makeup kit from underneath the counter and starts digging.

"I don't have foundation in the right shade for you," he admits, waving around the darkest color he has. "I could do you a full face and it would be less noticeable, but it would cover those cute freckles."

"That's fine," Ace says, and Izo pauses with the pot in hand, trying to parse that.

"Do you--like your freckles?" he asks.

"No," Ace says. "They're not the only thing I got from my mother."

Well, that's--okay then. "Okay, then, we'll just do your eyes," he says, and digs up the lining paint. "Close them, please."

Ace does, and Izo lays down slow careful lines with just a bit of a flick at the end. Ace is patient and sits still for it, which is more than he can say for some of his other brothers. He bypasses the cheek tint and eye coloring because this isn't a proper makeover; it's to potentially break a curse.

There's the new lip color he got one island back, the one he thinks would look lovely against Ace's skin. He picks it up and twists it out. "Do you know how to apply lipstick?" he asks.

"No," Ace says, putting out his hand for it, and Izo blinks and hands it over. Ace is deft and quick, and even uses his thumb to pop off the extra that would get on his teeth otherwise.

“You really did have an odd childhood, didn’t you?” Izo says, and takes the lipstick back. He was right; the shade goes really nicely with Ace’s tan and dark hair and--wait, no. “Well? Did it work?”

Ace chews on air for a second then he says, “It worked.”

Marco sighs and Thatch huffs. Izo props a hand on his hip and says, “Ace. Really now.”

Ace ducks his head, realizing that proved nothing, and then thinks some more. “Luffy loves meat,” he says, and then brightens. “Hey, it really did work!”

“Good,” Izo says, snapping his makeup case shut. “Glad to have helped.”

“I can tell the truth again!” Ace says happily. “I can say anything I want!”

Thatch catches him in a headlock, and Ace laughs but Izo screeches and grabs Thatch by the pompador. “I just did that makeup!” he yells. “Let him go before you smudge it!”

Ace wriggles out of it, laughing and leaving long streaks of black and red all over Thatch’s chef’s whites. He comes up looking like a horror show, and Izo sighs.

“I worked hard on that,” he complains, then goes to fetch the cleanser. In the background Thatch is howling and Ace is telling him it’s his fault anyway. Marco tries to call the children to order, and Izo turns around, props his hip on his vanity, and watches them go at it.

Thatch grabs Ace’s wrist and Ace twists into it and out of the grip, sliding in with a move straight out of the Marine handbook, and Izo vows that he’s going to learn more about his newest brother. He’s going to learn just as much as Ace will tell them. He doesn't remember everything Ace said this afternoon, but the few sentences that stick out--well.

One day Ace will trust them, he knows. It’ll take time, but that’s okay; they’ve got plenty.


End file.
